


Audio Processor Sensitivity

by androidbird



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sexual Tension, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 02:59:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14991308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androidbird/pseuds/androidbird
Summary: Connor is struggling with his Deviancy, feeling 500 simulated human emotions hit him at once. When this causes a glitch in his biocomponents he finds himself feeling exhausted. Maybe what he needs is a little TLC?





	Audio Processor Sensitivity

**Author's Note:**

> Man I really like writing Hank and Connor just interacting and thinking about each other. This one's a little bit longer, hope you enjoy!

AUDIO PROCESSOR SENSITIVITY  
HANNOR: one shot

Hank sighed. He had to wait to investigate some of the evidence the other team members had collected, and, uncharacteristically of him, Connor had not arrived at the police department yet. He scratched his head, and shot a message to Connor in an act of desperation. 

HANK: Where are you? I showed up here three hours ago and want to make more headway on this case. Waiting to analyze blood samples otherwise I’ll have to send them to the lab. 

He waited, and shot up in his spinning chair when he heard the gentle “pop” noise signifying he had received a reply.

CONNOR: Hank, I need your help. I’m on the side of the building. 

Hank saw this and stood up quickly, bumping over some papers and spilling them unceremoniously to the floor. “Shit…whatever.” he says, and bolts out the door, weaving through officers who look confused to see the Lieutenant in such a rush. He makes his way out of the doors to the office, breathless, turning wildly to determine which side Connor was on. He goes left first, and spots Connor’s blue armband on his sitting form, arms draped over his knees. “Connor…?” Hank opens the wire fence leading to the alleyway at the side of the building, approaching slowly.   
Connor looks up, his eyebrows knitted together, LED flashing not red but yellow, Hank lets his shoulders fall, relieved to see he wasn’t in any pain. “Hello Lieutenant.” he says, almost inaudibly. Hank cocks his head to the side, Connor sounded tense, like someone had just punched him in the gut and he couldn’t talk right.

“What’s the issue? You’re never late.” he takes on an authoritative tone, but it falters when he sees Connor extend his hand as if he needs help standing up. Hank grabs onto his forearm, giving him a strong pull with a little ‘hup’ as Connor lands lightly on his feet. 

“It’s my audio processor, I made my way here after a trip to Cyberlife last night, for a checkup on my biocomponents...apparently, there’s a glitch that causes extreme sensitivity to noise that has only been registered in deviants.” Connor states, as if he’s reading a report in a hushed whisper. Hank wonders how loud his own voice could possibly be if that was the case. 

Connor remembers dealing with Daniel, how the deviant had reacted so poorly to the helicopter blades whirring, and presses a hand gently to his ear, feeling the skin that covers the processor. 

“So… your ears are extra sensitive, can’t you turn your own volume down?” Hank asks and feels stupid for doing so but Connor gives him a small smile that makes him avert his eyes, clearly he was just trying to help. “I’m afraid it doesn’t quite work like that Lieutenant. What the glitch has caused is a sort of haphazard increase in my hearing sensitivity, so the surroundings become loud suddenly.” he says, and Hank looks a little bit embarrassed. 

“It may be comparable to the human fight or flight response, it’s like my deviancy is listening for threats.” he then says, more to himself than anything. Hank sets a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Listen, I can send those samples to the lab. I don’t want you getting scared and knocking shit over, so maybe you should just go back to the house, okay Connor?”

“But, Lieutenant I’m required to work-” Hank cuts him off “this is clearly stressing you out, go home.” 

Connor obeys despite not having to, calling a taxi. Hank watches him go off, sort of regretting it. “What is he gonna do with a day off?” Hank says to himself, walking back into the office, not looking forward to talking with other officers about his work. 

Connor spent most of the day back at Hank’s house doing two things. Sitting on the dilapidated couch, petting Sumo and thinking about the work he could be doing, and trying to run several diagnostics on himself. He had to turn off the TV, stop the laundry machine, and quickly slap his hands over his ears when he thought Sumo would bark, which wasn’t often so it was always a surprise. He hated feeling weak, and exposed, to things that are normally not an issue. He focused on Sumo’s soft breathing, finally at peace with the volume level of the house, nothing should be a surprise, nothing should-

A knock comes at the door, sounding like three gunshots in quick succession in Connor’s ears, almost making him want to curse. He gets up, forcing the giant dog paws off of his lap, his jacket collar messing up as he does, loose hairs flying. He straightens his tie in a desperate attempt to gain control of himself, and shrugs so his collar sits back in place and walks to the door. 

Hank is there, carrying two, no, three beers precariously in one hand and a bag with, Connor runs a scan, 7lbs of chinese takeout in the other. “Welcome home Lieutenant, I was quite surprised by your door knocking.” Connor audibly sighs, glad it was Hank and not actually someone with a gun on the other side of the door. 

Connor wasn’t used to being afraid, he plays with his sleeves and leans up against the doorframe, feeling distressed. Hank gives him a once over. “You look awful, considering what you are.” Hank says, but seriously, Connor really did look tired. His eyebrows were pulled together in a permanent scowl, mouth downturned. 

“This condition of mine is extremely irritating, everything in my head feels like it’s going to explode.” he was surprised by how he worded it, too colloquial, too...frustrated. Hank seemed surprised too, walking over to the kitchen, cracking open one of his beers and pausing before taking a sip, as if he was trying to figure it out as well.

“Do you ever get...stressed, Connor?” he likened the pounding feeling to a headache in his mind, Hank can often remember hangovers making him feel like Connor does. Connor looks at him, and his LED blinks wildly. 

“No… no I guess I haven’t thought of it. Do you think this glitch could be caused by stress?” he shuts his eyes tight, and sits down on the couch with a harsh thud, hands going up to pull at his hair. This feeling of only being able to think of one thing at a time, made him feel slow, and powerless, and yes, very much stressed. 

“Yes, yes I think I am.” It’s true that Connor was extremely focused on getting cases done over these past few weeks. Anti-android equality crimes had become much more common, leading to android homicides that had to be treated as crimes against a person ever since the revolution. Connor of course didn’t mind this, he himself was part of the revolution, but the rapid increase in crimes of this nature caused him to not have a lot of time for reflection or relaxation. 

“I think this is what you needed, Connor, you look exhausted.” Hank sits next to him, holding a small box of fried rice in one hand and chopsticks between the fingers of his other. “Wish you could eat, nothing better for a headache than chewing on ginger.” Hank says, and leans back into the couch, reaching for the remote. 

Connor reaches for his hand, effectively stopping Hank, and says “Do I have permission to change, Lieutenant?” he feels as if he has to ask, it would be bad for Hank to yell in surprise at Connor removing his clothing. He felt...claustrophobic. Hank looks down at his hand that’s been grabbed, and back up at Connor. “Yeah, I mean, right here?” Hank kept his voice low, both in volume and octave, Connor noticed.

Hank was surprised he asked. Ever since Connor accepted his deviancy he hasn’t exactly been exercising his free will. In fact, he seemed more obedient and protective of Hank. Probably because he wasn’t tied to his mission.

“Well, just to remove my jacket and tie. Something feels constricted.” Connor says ‘something’ because everything is making him feel unsure. He removes his jacket, like a weight being lifted off of his shoulders, and sighs heavily, lips parting, listening to himself, impossibly loud in his ears. He wrenches his tie down quickly, throwing it over his neck and landing back down onto the couch, looking over at Hank. “Is this how it feels, Lieutenant?” Connor asks, realizing he didn’t even elaborate, “I mean, after a ‘long day’ at work. You often do something similar. I understand now how it feels to be tired.” Connor couldn’t sleep, per say, but he closes his eyes anyways, and everything slows to a crawl. He wasn’t processing anything but the smell of Hank’s cologne, his food, and the feeling of Sumo’s breath on his white shirt, causing the fabric to brush up against his stomach. 

Deviancy is exhausting. 

Hank watches Connor slowly relax. He knew androids don’t tire physically, but maybe deviancy caused them to tire mentally, simulating human emotions meant the whole package, happiness, fear, and he guessed even stress. Hank had never seen Connor like this, his immaculate form, besides the few stray hairs built into his appearance, was never disturbed when they worked together before the revolution and even the couple months after. But ever since the large increase in android related crimes, Connor has been keeping himself very busy. 

He watches Connor closely, his parted lips, LED that’s still yellow, rotating, flashing occasionally. His eyes are closed, not tightly like before but just closed, and he lifts his arms above his head so his hands meet behind his neck, his tight button up lifting so you can see the sharp angle of his hip bone, poking out just above his belt. Hank has the desire to touch the pale skin there. For a second he places his chopsticks in the rice container and reaches over but holds his hand back, feeling the callouses that have built up over the years, causing friction as he closes his hand firmly. 

Try not to touch your android partner, Anderson. Hank thinks, he boxes the side of his head gently. He couldn’t deny that Connor was an attractive android, but it was against his neutral attitude towards them in general to feel any sort of physical attraction to one. He licks his bottom lip slowly, biting it, wanting to punish himself a little for wanting to suck a red mark into Connor’s hip. 

Connor’s eyes open suddenly, and Hank pretends he was looking at the TV, grabbing his chopsticks in a deft motion. “If you would excuse me…I’ll be in your room, Lieutenant.” Connor says, almost like a request if Hank had objected, but instead he just nods, attempting to be nonchalant, bottom lip still between his teeth. 

Hank hears Connor open the bedroom, the creaky door closing only partially behind him, and hears Connor mumbling softly, and then eventually the sound of a soft thud, he assumed Connor was laying down. Hank can’t imagine experiencing being tired for the first time again, in fact he’s come home and stripped down so many times after working, even while studying for his licence that he can’t remember the first time he felt truly exhausted. He wished he could do something, he wondered for a moment if androids could receive massages. 

Connor let himself go into standby, only letting his olfactory and general sense of touch remain, the soft hum of the heater in Hank’s house and the muffled TV sounding in the next room, Connor was glad Hank had waited to turn it on until Connor had left, he doesn’t know if he could handle much more sound than this. The smell of...again, Hank’s cologne fills Connor’s mind, Connor dully noting the brand and particular scent, Connor decided he enjoyed it. He felt his whole body go limp, thighs and shins moving against the sheets, the only barrier are the tight jeans Connor wears with his uniform. Connor reaches under himself, undoing several buttons on his shirt before sitting up briefly and shrugging it off. He shoves his hands underneath Hank’s ratty old pillow, gripping the sheets underneath and letting out a soft moan. His thoughts freeze. Connor enjoyed this feeling, maybe more than he’d care to admit. His model wasn’t designed for arousal but because of his programming for integration could experience many forms of physical touch. Paired with his new simulated human emotions… Connor definitely felt...good, right now. He had no other way of describing it. 

He hears Hank approach, sock covered feet creating limited sound on his carpet flooring, but audible nonetheless. Hank says, gently, “Is there anything I can do...Connor?” he tacks the name on the end as if it’s sinful to say, and Connor’s body twitches, somehow Hank’s voice elicited this reaction from him. 

Connor mumbles into the pillow, his curious nature driving him, “Speak… again, Lieutenant” and Hank could barely make it out, and it was certainly strange, but he obeys. “Sure, are you feeling any better?” he asks in a very Hank manner, pretending he doesn’t care but secretly does, and he presses a thumb to his left temple, Connor looks extremely submissive like this. Hank could just lean over and grab Connor’s ass, his muscular but delicate looking shoulder blades that curve down with his spine to more defined hips than Hank had imagined before today. Hank could, but he won’t. He doesn’t want to startle Connor, so he decides to keep talking, wanting to help soothe his partner. 

He soon hears a muffled “Much better, yes.” and Hank smiles, and walks over to the other side of the bed, sitting upwards and leaning up against the headboard. “You know, the more I look at you…” Hank needs to decide how to phrase this “the less perfect you are.” Connor’s head turns to look at him, a little insulted but there’s a small, contented smile on his lips anyways. 

“I mean you look real. Like if I touched you...you’d feel warm.” Hank’s voice falters, and he sees something in Connor’s eyes that he’s never seen before, a dark, wanting look. Connor was never really expressive, but today, Connor could make Hank do anything with a look like that.   
Hank averts his eyes, opting for Connor’s back again. Not quite tan and not sheet white either, with beauty marks peppering down to what looked like back dimples. Little imperfections that only reinforced what Hank had just said. It was becoming very hard for Hank to not touch Connor.

“Do it, Lieutenant. You should touch me, if you want.” Connor eventually says, voice still soft but articulate like it always is, a little more gruff with exhaustion. 

Given permission, Hank does a small double take between Connor’s hip and his eyes, half lidded and warm, and very brown. He reaches out, and touches Connor’s skin, and for the first time he hears Connor let out a small noise, that could only be called a moan, as if his skin is extra sensitive. Hank adds pressure now, opting for a less tentative touch, pressing his fingers into Connor’s back dimples, feeling his spine, using his palm to cradle the delicate curve of his back all the way up to his left shoulder blade, Connor lifting slightly to keep the pressure up.

“Does that...feel good?” Hank says, and his voice too is gruff, he feels arousal burning the pit of his stomach, touching Connor like this felt taboo in more than one way. Connor doesn’t respond, and instead focuses on the change in Hank’s voice, the deep rumbling vibrating almost from Hank’s lips all the way to his fingertips, making Connor shudder, and want more. He felt so vulnerable, so needy, he felt a little angry that Hank made him feel like this. Because… he wasn’t sure if it was his “glitch” or because he really, really wanted Hank. 

Either way, Connor flips onto his side, so Hank’s hand was now on his obliques, feeling the patterns there, rough, large hands. It was sensory overload, pleasure ripped through Connor’s thoughts like lightning, and he sits up now, feeling a constricted, desperate look come over his face.

“I don’t….I don’t know what this is Lieutenant. But, please continue.” Hank is starting to get pissed off at this professional tone, and leans forward to Connor’s ear, “Right now I’m not your Lieutenant, Connor.” and Connor’s whole body tenses and he makes a choked off noise, Hank quickly pulling back worried that it was too loud for him, apologizing quietly in a quick ‘Sorry’. But instead Connor, unsure of himself, reaches up, grabbing the back of Hank’s head and pulls him forward, lips crashing against Hank’s. 

At first it’s all teeth, and Connor hisses because it’s nothing like he’s ever experienced, and Hank pulls back, saying quickly “Relax…” before leaning back in, and taking another taste of Connor, lips now soft against his own, completely pliant. Hank gently adds his tongue, hearing Connor moan softly into his mouth, the noise washing over him, his cock twitching. “Jesus Connor, are you programmed to make noises like that?” he asks pulling back, his hand eventually rests on Connor’s sharp hip bone. 

“N-No, it just feels appropriate, Hank.” and Hank smiles at his name being said, equally proud of the more casual tone Connor had adopted and proud he was making Connor moan so easily. 

“I’m sorry. I should know how to kiss by now, seeing so many humans partake in it, but I haven’t had the time to research-” Hank cuts him off for the second time today, kissing him gently again, pulling Connor closer by the hip, feeling it arch into his hand and Hank lets out a sound of his own. Connor’s hips buck again. 

Hank pulls back, and moves his hand experimentally, locking eyes with Connor’s, which flutter open and closed as he nods, shifting his hips forward so his crotch presses against the heel of Hank’s hand. Hank is relieved to be met with the feeling of a cock in his hand, decently sized and radiating heat. Connor bites his lip and flashes his eyes downward, saying “Please touch me…” in a soft tone to which Hank can only comply. He palms Connor’s cock slowly, using his thumb and forefinger to undo the button of his jeans and pull the zipper down. This experienced movement causes Connor to shake a little bit, Hank notes as he looks up at Connor that his LED has been yellow and flashing this entire time. 

“Are you okay with this..?” Hank asks, and Connor gives a short but affirmative nod, and Hank reaches into Connor’s black and tight boxer briefs to find his cock, which bobs, Hank chuckles a little bit and takes it in his hand firmly, stroking slowly, Connor lets his head fall onto Hank’s shoulder, a begging “Don’t laugh at me…” coming from his lips which only makes Hank laugh again.

“Don’t worry, it’s adorable, you want this bad don’t you?” and the idea that Connor does want something as badly as he does right now causes him to only moan in response, louder this time, a choked off “Hank…” at the end as he bucks his hips forward. 

White hot pleasure is all Connor can feel, not even thinking about his own volume as he whines, whimpers and moans into Hank’s shoulder. Hank strokes faster and adds more pressure, pressing a thumb against the head of Connor’s cock, Connor bucking up uselessly into Hank’s hand, and Hank sees the faint glow of Connor’s LED on his shoulder, flashing red, blue, yellow, sheer confusion. 

“Are you gonna come for me?” Hank asks, and Connor knows immediately what he means, certainly feeling himself reach some sort of climax. “Y-Yes Hank..” he barely manages to get his response out before his entire vision clouds and his teeth find their way into Hank’s shoulder as he bites down with a harsh muffled groan, hips and cock twitching. 

Hank slows the strokes down until he finally stops, and thanks Cyberlife for the lack of cum that probably would have ended up all over his shirt. 

“I didn’t even get to change Connor,” Hank teases, Connor sits up and with tired eyes looks up and down at Hank. He opens his mouth to respond but Hank kisses him gently instead. “Don’t worry your pretty head.” and tucks Connor back into his pants, zipping them up and patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll take care of myself, that was for you.” Connor nods appreciatively, licking his lips and kissing Hank again, body overwhelmed and sensitive, sighing before landing on Hank’s bed. 

“I guess I’m sleeping with an android now.” Hank says, conflicted but glad.


End file.
